


Lose Your Way

by ladybiscuits



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Hallucinations, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybiscuits/pseuds/ladybiscuits
Summary: Even after his death, Allura sees him in everything.





	Lose Your Way

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea back in season 7 and ended up leaving it to collect dust in my drive, but what happened after season 8 compelled me to finish it. So yay! I've had "Mariners Apartment Complex" by Lana Del Rey exclusively on repeat for this if that helps set the mood for anyone. :)

Only a few quintants on Earth and already her heart aches. For home, her people… and _him._ The same burning misery she felt when they forced her to leave him behind. It’s a secret she keeps in the cool of the evening, in the overwhelming silence of her room.

She knows she shouldn’t. She truly doesn’t mean to. But then the paladins are reuniting with their families and she’s suddenly alone, pretending to be happy for supposed friends that barely acknowledge her anyway, who never stopped once to ask if she was alright. It leaves her chest hollow, more so than it already was, as if a part of her died along with… with…

Allura swallows the lump in her throat. Presses her cheek into the pillow.

 _A princess must always be strong_ , she reminds herself. _Never forget that._

But curled up in her sheets like this in the dark, she remembers him as if they were never separated at all. Both his gaze and smile soft. The tenderness of his touch unmistakable every time he traced the curve of her cheek. The gentle pulse of his hidden markings with each kiss.

Peerless and beautiful.

Forever committed to memory.

She eventually falls asleep imagining his voice, with his name on the edge of her lips.

* * *

Speaking his name with contempt feels like swallowing gravel. Completely wrong, and weighing heavily on her conscious. The longer the paladins go on, the more nauseous she becomes. The sickly sweet saliva that coats her teeth is a testament to that guilt.

Romelle she can easily dismiss. Their newest companion didn’t truly know the man himself, despite her insistence on the matter. The paladins eat up her words like candy. Especially Lance.

But what ends up eating her up inside is Acxa’s groundless vitriol.

Endless vargas spent working on Sincline and he spoke nothing but good things about his former generals. Praised them for their countless skills and achievements. Regaled her with stories of their numerous adventures together. And after he’d given his complete trust to her, confessed he had missed them despite their betrayal. That he wished the best for them in whatever capacity that was.

Allura’s chest tightens in heartache.

_Wrong._

_This is all wrong._

She empties her stomach in the communal restroom. Eyes wet and fingers shaking against the wall.

_He is a good man. I’m sure of it._

_Was_ a good man.

* * *

The pretending becomes too much.

Fake interest, fake smiles, fake laughter.

No acknowledgment or respect. Rarely sought out by other leaders to make battle plans. It was as if everyone was walking on eggshells around her. Like her relationship with the Galra’s last Emperor somehow tainted all future decisions.

She barely feels like the Princess of Altea anymore.

The last. Just like him.

Tears spill the moment she locks herself in her room. Her heart trembles as she sinks to the floor, legs curling underneath her.

 _Weak_ , her own voice in her head taunts her. _You’re weak for allowing them to get to you so easily._

“I disagree.”

That voice. She knew it far too well. At the helm of the castleship’s bridge, within the safe confines of Sincline, between their lips in the privacy of her bedroom.

Gentle. Assured, yet oddly comforting. Warmth spread out to the tips of her fingers, to the ends of her toes.

Her breath leaves her all at once, her heart nearly stopping at the sight of him seated beside her. Relaxed. As if he’d rather be in no other place in the universe than there. With her.

“L-Lotor…?”

She can almost feel the press of his palm to her cheek when he reaches over. A thumb catching another tear as it falls.

It’s not real.

 _He’s_ not real.

No matter how much she wishes it to be the opposite.

“Do not weep for them, princess. They are undeserving of your tears.”

Allura almost loses herself in the cobalt and gold. Soft, just like she remembers. And only for her. Eyes slide close as she allows herself to sink into him, this hallucination. Just for a moment. Just for a dobosh or two.

The weight of his hand is tangible, as is its heat if she concentrated hard enough. He says nothing more, unfortunately, but a smile eases its way onto her lips anyway.

It’s the first sense of comfort she’s had in movements.

* * *

That comfort carries on well into the next few quintants. The shock lessens each time he makes an appearance. It’s become so frequent now that she wonders if she’s just gone completely insane.

“These are curious. What are they called?”

Ever inquisitive, Lotor sits across from her in the mess hall where she’s secluded herself to a table shoved into a corner. One of his brows is arched as he points down at her tray of food.

Allura swallows the tiny bite of bread in her mouth. “Peace? Or so I’m told.”

“How peculiar,” he says as he scratches his chin, observing the green vegetable closely. “Why are they in capsules? Do they need protection?”

Allura giggles behind her hand, drawing looks from a few garrison soldiers around her. She doesn’t care how crazy she may appear. “The round things grow inside I think? It’s like eating mushy, foul-tasting babies while they’re still in the womb.”

He blinks at her before a grin stretches his lips. The flash of fang has her heart fluttering, as does his low, bemused chuckle. “Your strange sense of humor never fails to delight me, princess.”

Pink heats her cheeks all the way up to the tips of her ears. A strange sense of humor for a princess, yes; she’d been told too many times growing up. But Lotor always seemed to enjoy it — _encouraged_ it even — supported her bouts of silliness while undertaking burdens too stressful for her onto himself. And for that she would always be grateful.

Lotor suddenly leans forward, folded arms atop the table supporting his weight. “And what is that?” His nose wrinkles. “The scent is appalling.”

Allura pokes at the offending food with a fork. The meat was graying and far too jelly-like in consistency to be considered edible. “It’s… some sort of meat. From a can. The paladins never specified from what creature.”

His brows draw together, wary of this “mystery meat”. “That’s… disconcerting.”

“I’ve never bothered to eat it. But Pidge and Lance seem to enjoy it for some reason.”

“Who?”

Her smile grows fond with his feigned ignorance. “You know who I’m talking about.” He’d never admit it to anyone else, but he learned the names of each paladin within one quintant of his imprisonment. According to him, watching the blue one squirm was one particular favorite pastime of his.

But, _oh_ , how she misses this — misses _him_. Her equal. Her better, more reasonable half. But somehow she can never speak the words into existence. She places the blame on the fact that it isn’t really him, but deep down she knows it’s much more than that.

What would this hallucination say? He’d been supportive and considerate thus far, exactly how he was in the eight phoebs they came to discover each other. What if he reacted horrendously? Or worse, rejected her as she did with him? She didn’t think her heart could handle it.

His hand gently covered her fist, which she didn’t even realize was trembling. She releases the bent utensil from her grip with a gasp. When she meets his eyes again, she can see they’re laden with concern. For her.

“You must regain your strength, my love.”

Allura nearly chokes.

Love.

 _My_ love.

_We were meant to be together. My feelings for you are true._

“I know you haven’t been the same since our fight. But I need you to take care of yourself. If just for a little longer.”

Her tongue feels leaden in her mouth, and the lump in her throat hard to swallow. She wants to do better more than anything. But her heart simply isn’t into it anymore. Dragging. Like every one of her senses were muted and purposeless.

She’s… _exhausted._ By everyone and everything.

“I hate seeing you like this.”

Allura inhales a shaky breath. Lungs burning from grief and eyes stinging with fresh tears. “I’m not sure if I can,” she admits.

His thumb tracks over her knuckles. One corner of his lips lifts in encouragement. “I believe in you.” She wonders if the pressure around her fingers is part of the hallucination. “Here, let me help. We can start with the mushy, green babies first.”

Another giggle escapes her before she can help it, and already she’s blinking away the tears. “The peace?”

His laughter joins hers. “Yes, the peace.”

* * *

Even after his death, Allura sees him in everything.

In the solitude of her evening strolls around the garrison. To admire the blanket of stars far beyond her reach. _I’ve always wanted to be an explorer._ He’d lean against the railing beside her, enchanted by the moonlight shimmering in her eyes. It was a rare quintant indeed if he managed to look at something other than herself.

“Earth certainly has its wonders. But none of them compare to you, my dear.”

“This is the only place you’ve seen, Lotor.”

“My statement still stands. Earth doesn’t do you justice.”

A flatterer until the end. She may playfully roll her eyes, but a blush appears on her cheeks all the same.

Yet she agrees with his roundabout phrasing.

“Yes, it is not home.” _Our_ home.

In the showers after everyone’s asleep. The warmth of his chest presses against her back just as the sting of the water hits her skin. His lips catch onto her neck, where wet strands of hair are plastered. She swears the tickle of his fingertips trailing down her front isn’t of her own invention.

“Are you real?” she breathes, utterly transfixed by how electrified her body feels. A sensation she’d forgotten since their battle in the rift.

“I’m as real as you want me to be, Allura.”

She swallows, unsure, but allows herself to get lost in him anyway.

In her bedroom where the desk lamp softly illuminates the walls. Reminiscent of late nights spent working together. She’s curled up in bed while he sits comfortably at her desk. Legs crossed, posture impeccable. He’s dressed down to his flight suit, scribbling notes into a tablet while his free hand links with hers. Gloves off. Claws sharp as they run over her fingers, but not once do they break her skin.

She wonders how he carries the weight of the entire universe on his shoulders. His upbringing is no secret to her, nor are his struggles as a leader of a people who rejected him millennia ago. And yet he still manages to make everything look so effortless.

_You betrayed and used me. You’re more like Zarkon than I could have imagined._

Her throat tightens with the memory. Tears wet her pillow.

How could she ever say such a thing to him? How could she be so hurtful? After he had opened up to her, _entrusted_ her with things he never shared with others. Especially when she lo—

“—I’m sorry.”

His gaze finds hers. The dim light softens every one of his sharp angles. Their fingers are still intertwined when he reaches over to wipe away a tear with a knuckle. “What for?”

“ _Everything_ ,” her voice wavers.

Lotor lets go of her hand. Cards his fingers through her hair instead. The careful drag of nails against her scalp soothes her almost immediately. His face goes fuzzy when he leans close, presses a kiss to her temple.

“I’m sorry, too.”

* * *

At her worst, he’s there like a moth to a flame, and on the better quintants she’d be lucky if he made an appearance at all. But regardless of her doing or not, she can gradually feel him slipping away the longer time goes on.

“Please don’t leave me,” she blurts out one night, tears straining her voice. She’s so, _so_ tired of crying. Of keeping up the facade she puts on around everyone except him. Lotor turns his attention from the trinkets on the desk to her, brows arched high. “ _Please._ I can’t… _I can’t_ …”

_I cannot do this without you._

“I feel so lost without you,” she confesses as he closes the distance between them. His caress pushes the curls out of her face before pulling her into his embrace. “They don’t understand…”

“You’re mistaken, Allura.” His breath grazes her ear as he speaks. Low and lovely and a balm to her heart. Her fingers curl into his suit, the soft material giving around the shoulders. “You’re the strongest person I know. And you’ve been doing so well without me.”

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “That’s not true. I’ve been nothing but a weak, weeping mess.”

“To show weakness is strength itself,” he counters. “I learned that a long time ago. The hard way.”

An exhale shudders out of her. Grasp tightening with the tumult of emotions coursing through her. “I should never have left you. It will forever be my greatest regret.”

And at that, he finally falls silent. The truth stating what her apology could not.

_Don’t leave me the way I left you._

But still he cradles her, refuses to let her go. Forgiveness imbues his touch. His heart beat faintly against her ear. Almost in tandem to her own.

 _I don’t deserve him._ Any _version of him._

“Now that’s not true.” She blinks up at him, a question on her lips. But he speaks before it enters the space between them, gaze tender as a thumb strokes one of her markings. “Allura, I cannot think of anyone more deserving of my love than you.”

_I know you have feelings for me as well._

“Lotor,” she breathes, heart overfull but aching. Longing.

He’s not real. Just a product of an imagination struggling to cope with a broken soul, waiting to be pieced together again.

“I-I… I…”

He hushes her with a small grin. Gentle. Loving. Never anything less. That same thumb traces over her lips, like this may be his last chance to memorize her. “I know.”

Allura presses her cheek to his chest again, desperate to hear — _to feel_ — that heartbeat again.

His nose nuzzles against her crown. “I would never abandon you. You must know that,” he murmurs. His fingers weave into her hair when she nods. “Wherever you are, I’m right there with you, Allura.”

“Promise?”

“ _Always_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Still not completely satisfied with the end. But what can you do? Feedback is always appreciated <3


End file.
